


I Wanted A Multiverse Spanning Harem, So I Called In A Booty Call from Isekai Cthulhu! - The Generic First Jump

by bronxterror



Series: I Wanted A Multiverse Spanning Harem, So I Called In A Booty Call from Isekai Cthulhu! [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, Other Fandom Tags to Be Added, Ranma 1/2, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Harems, M/M, Midoriya Izuku Has a Quirk, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Bakugou Katsuki, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-09-07 04:01:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20303134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bronxterror/pseuds/bronxterror
Summary: Sometimes, being an all powerful, eldritch monstrosity gets boring. You can only seduce and play with the lives of mortals for so long before you've seen every single one of them. But eventually, you start to have favourites. These favourites, you watch for years and years, until you eventually decide to play a true game with them.This "game" is called the Jump Chain - wherein a single person walks through the multiverse, gaining power, friends, and achieving their greatest dreams - all for the entertainment of their benefactor. For the one named 'Mews', this is their third time playing the game, but this will be their best round yet.-A self indulgent, massive crossover focused on gathering my favourite characters into a single harem, for a massive adventure. This is based upon the Jumpchain Choose Your Own Adventure game.Chapters will be simulposted on Questionable Questing under the same title. Tags will be updated as chapters are completed. As this is my first solo writing project in some time, it will take time for me to find my pacing, so please forgive me if the styles are inconsistent - I'm still trying new things.





	1. Generic First Jump - Part 0: Introduction, and the Beginning of our Game

**Author's Note:**

> Cringe culture is dead and I'm bringing the corpse in for the reward money.

A world of an indeterminate dimension. A cloudy, white bar of indeterminate size. Of indeterminate shape. Filled with indeterminate numbers of people, with indeterminate white faces, and indeterminate white bodies, casting indeterminate white shadows. We sat at the far edge of an edgeless world, a bar counter between us. Myself unremarkable save for striking grey eyes, and my benefactor remarkable on all accounts - dark and vibrant, glowing green against stark white.

"It occurs to me, Jumper. This is our third collaboration, and yet the first I've ever seen your face." The being across from me at the bar countertop slowly spins their whiskey glass, the liquid inside steaming and smoking. "I must say, I'm very disappointed - such a mediocre visage, and you intend to do...what was it you called it? Harem gathering? You really expect to get anyone looking like...  _ that _ ?"

I couldn't stop the eyeroll. "There's something called a personality. Have you tried having one beyond 'galactic shitposter'? I'm  _ sure _ that attitude is great with people - when was the last time you've had a lover? Was it when Nyarly was still giving you dick, or was it Yog-sothoth's tentacles?"

“My…” The person across from me - my ‘sponsor’ - closes one strangely colored eye, smiling suavely, muting the strange, green glow that shone in the strange, ambient lighting. “Are you truly so obsessed with the sins of the flesh that even this lure of mine is driving into your brain? Keep your wits about you - lest you be swallowed by something much worse than your kind and wonderful sponsor.”   
  
“Don’t you normally take the form of a girl, J.C.?” Calling this person with such dark, masculine features ‘Jump Chan’ wouldn’t make sense to anyone. “What, am I not worth the genki girl act anymore? Or are you falling for me and my frequent flier miles?”

“You could say.” J.C. takes a long sip of their smoking drink, the sound of sizzling and boiling liquid filling the air. They slowly let out a breath of pure smoke. “For someone such as I, changing the shape of my lure is child’s play. You know how these things work, surely? An utter shut-in like you should be well familiar with the work of Lovecraft. I’m positive the two of you could have bonded over your ignorance of all things in this world.” They set their drink down with a patronizing, closed-eye smile.

A snort from me. “So, this is your ‘lure’ at work, then? Trying a new method of seducing Jumpers into your contracts? The girl next door act must have been getting old - the hot thing is idols right now, I’m sure you’re aware. If I’d hazard a guess, though…you’ve got it on automatic, yeah? So this is what my ‘ideal sponsor’ would look like.” I couldn’t stop a wandering eye from running up J.C.’s body, from the barely visible top of their black jeans, to the nape of their sculpted neck, their chiseled face, and their perfectly maintained green undercut. 

I have to admit - my subconscious knew what it was thinking.

“I suppose I can give you good enough marks.” My ‘benefactor’ stepped to the back of the bar, swaying their hips to draw my attention down. I couldn’t be mad about the view, I suppose. They pour two drinks, setting a lemonade down for me.

“Well, then, I’m sure you’re familiar with how this will work, then?” They continue, sitting themself down and kicking their feet up onto the bar. “You choose a world, buy what your little heart desires and can afford, spend ten years, move on. The standard fare?” Another long, slow drink, followed by a wreath of smoke coming from dark lips. “And, knowing you, you’ve probably got your list on hand.”

“You know me well enough, then.” I flip a zip drive over to my sponsor. It doesn’t even reach J.C., dispersing into green-black pixels as it nears them, only to be reconfigured into a clipboard in their hands. “...Show-off.”

“There’s a certain method to these things, I’m sure you understand. The showmanship is part of it, lest you forget how far above you I sit, even when down on my knees.”

“And I’m sure you’re down on your knees  _ very  _ often, aren’t you?” An arched eyebrow is my only response. Figures. J.C. unbuttons the top of their white dress shirt and loosens their black tie, leaning back to look over the clipboard. 

“Hmm...All of this seems in order. You even got someone to double check your math - I can see quite a few initial mistakes. You’re lucky to have someone willing to put up with that. You’ll return to quite a few of these levels later, but I’m sure you’re aware of that already.”   
  
“That was the intention, yes.” I lean against the counter, picking up my own drink to sip at it, never breaking eye contact. “I’ve got all that figured out already, even if it will throw some timeline stuff off.”

“I suppose, then, that everything is in order. All that’s left is for you to roll the dice and get your little vanity check done.” As if on cue - rather, directly on cue - a trio of mirrors appear behind me. “I’ll be waiting - I’ll even give you time to admire yourself for a few moments. I know how vain you jumpers tend to be.”

Turning around, I expected to have something akin to a character customization menu in a video game. I’ve never gone through this personally, after all. But rather, my vision clouds with a massive fog of green-black pixels, the sound of hissing, steaming, and bubbling filling my ears. I could imagine the intense heat - I could imagine the feeling of my flesh melting and rearranging itself. But I didn’t feel a thing.

And as I open my eyes, I realized it really did happen. The me that was in the mirror was a different me - a me I that I could barely recognize.

Fair skin, free of body hair, and light blushings of dark pink contrasting with the still pale complexion. Narrow shoulders, wide hips, long legs, short torso. The same grey eyes looking back in the mirror, but now framed with long, dark purple hair that wrapped around my shoulders in light curls, pulled to one side. All of this contrasted with a pair of striking, red, square glasses.

“...What, too cheap to get me a damn witch hat? That’s part of my ideal look, you know.” I turned, trying to get a view of every inch of myself. “Though I suppose your craftsmanship is half decent, for once.”

“You already have a magic ‘wand’, Jumper - it’s the tools that make the man.”

My eye twitched, turning on my heel to chuck my glass at J.C.’s head, knowing it’d miss. But at least it felt good. “I am NOT a man!”

Just as I expected, the bastard had caught it and dissolved it into pixels. “Yes, well, I never said you  _ were.  _ But with that tool, you’ll have  _ plenty _ of men, if I do say so myself.”

“Ugh...you...I…!” I screamed in indignation, spinning on my heels and throwing my hands up. “Why did I even try this?! Just, fuck me, I guess -!”

“Oh my, are you offering? I didn’t go into this expecting a booty call, little rabbit.”

“You  _ know  _ that isn’t what I meant, knockoff Nyarlathotep!” Was my hissed response, turning back with rage-filled eyes. “Like  _ hell _ am I getting whatever galactic STD you’ve got in your Pandora’s Box of a crotch!”

J.C. rolled their glowing green eyes, leaning further against the counter. “Are you quite sure? I have to say - that new body of yours would look  _ delightful _ pushed up against a wall, or bent over the hood of a car. If I recall, aren’t you quite the exhibitionist?”

“I wasn’t aware you knew what a car even  _ was _ . Aren’t you isekai types fond of trucks, instead? If you’re done trying to get into my rear, can we get on with the selection already? I’ve been kept waiting for long enough!”

“Yes, yes…Come over, little rabbit - Mews, rather.” J.C. beckons me over, and I set myself at the bar - not even raising an eyebrow as it reshapes itself into a large roulette wheel - ten solid sections of black and green. “Let’s see…” They set their glass down, and spin their fingers over it - the wheel beginning to spin likewise.

Slowly, though, it came to a rolling stop - a black section of the wheel dissolving and floating into my hands as a card.

“Well...this is my first stop, then…”

I turned it over.

“A Modern Adventure…? Wait, that was --”   
  
“Let’s leave it as a surprise, m’kay?” J.C. smiled slyly. “Now...why don’t we watch the show as it unravels?”

I blink, turning to them properly. “Come again? This is a bar, and...well, I was under the impression I’d be the one down there.”

“And you will be. Consider them...your Piece.”

My eye twitches. “What is this, Umineko…?”

“Beato is  _ quite _ inspiring to my work, I must say.” J.C. sips their noxious cocktail, before forcibly turning our entire setup around - revealing that the entire bar room had vanished, its patrons turning into dust in the air to make room for a set of windows gazing out into the multiverse.

More specifically, the multiverses I had chosen to start with.

“Hmph. ‘Inspiring’ indeed...Very well then.” I stick my hand out to my opposite. “To a good show.”

“To a good Chain.”


	2. Generic First Jump - Part 1: Ranma 1/2, Except I Just Care About Ranma's Nose, Damnit!

The first thing I learned during this chain was that everything is always easier on screen than in real life. Even if you have a robot body, being punched by a panda will hurt like a _ bitch. _

For context, this first level is the world of Ranma ½, where magic, martial arts, and masochism are indistinguishable. As for the robot body…

The most important thing to my survival in this jump was a robotic body. A Nasod body, human shaped. Of course, it still requires El to run, but that’s what Favourite Treats is for. Infinite supplies of El-aid. An MP Potion for everyone else, but for me, it’s robot fuel. The Nasod body also comes with a few other things, such as access to the various Codes within the software, and the hardware (weaponry) that Eve was famous for using. My favourite of the abilities, though, is being able to turn my stamina into magical energy, and vice versa.

Uh, if only I could actually  _ do that _ yet.

As it turns out, buying the body? Yeah, it doesn’t exactly tell you how to use it. I’ve only figured out air dashes and the basic energy ball projectiles, and that took a few months.

If I go to Touhou, I’m set, at least.

On the bright side, I can still be human with an easy flick of the wrist. That much, at least, I can do without practice.

\-----------

“...And yet, you still refuse to give me a fucking witch hat.”

J.C. snorts. “You’re in the Chinese wilds, why would there be a witch hat there?”

“Fuck you.”

“Hmmm, I have condoms.”

I flush. “...Maybe just once.”

\-----------

Long hair is good. Long hair is great.

It looks pretty, it makes you feel badass when you flip it, and it’s fucking awesome when someone pulls it during sex.

“Fuck long hair…” I grumble, yanking branches and greenery from tangled knots.

It gets caught in fucking  _ everything _ , and it isn’t awesome when someone grabs it during a fight.

“Grhskh…”   
  
I glare over at the pile of yellow mumbling, irritated. “Shut up, piglet! I ain’t going to deal with your bullshit right now!” Fumbling through my bag, I find my brush and start getting the knots out.

It had been around four months since I’d landed in the mountains adjacent to the Jusenkyo springs. Well, since I landed in the springs themselves, but the curse doesn’t work when you’re a robot - thank god. I’m not fond of being a cat whenever it rains, thanks-much. Unfortunately, I’ve been lost for those four months. And despite my amazing laptop, I can’t exactly get internet out in this hellscape of martial arts and Amazons.

“Gagagghhhsh...”   
  
“Oh,  _ bite me. _ It’s only a little bit of lightning - the swelling in your scrotum will go down in a few minutes.”

\-----------

“It’s so strange to see you so vicious, and yet make such pretty noises…”

_ “Bite me - !”  _ I gasped as the bastard dug their teeth into my shoulders.

\-----------

Oh, yeah, the yellow menace currently nursing his inflated scrotum is Ryoga Hibiki. He’s pretty cute, ain’t gonna lie. I half expected these guys to not be as attractive in real life as when they’re drawn, but I’m not complaining.

I take a breath, walking over to him and kicking him over onto his back. “It looks like you’re fine now. Come on, stand. What’s your name, piglet?”

“Why the heck should I tell you?!” He sits up, glaring at me with black eyes. “What even  _ was  _ that!? There’s no martial arts move that can let you shoot lightning balls from your hands!”

“That you know of.” It isn’t even that wrong. The Amazons can do some  _ crazy _ shit.

“...Well, I guess I’ll give mine first. You can call me Mews - the rest of my name doesn’t matter, m’kay?” I wink down at him, then gave him my hand.

He took it.

“...Hibiki Ryoga.”

“Good, good, we’re learning about each other. So why are you all the way out in the middle of China? What is this, the Southern Territories…?”

He looks at me like I’m stupid. “This isn’t the base of Mount Fuji…?”

“Oh. My god.”

\-----------

“Oh my god, NO!”

“Please, stop squirming and hold your mouth open - my ovipositor needs to enter your stomach, and my eggs are  _ so very fragile _ , rabbit.”

\----------- 

“What do you  _ mean _ this is China?!”

“I meant that you fucking crossed the sea without noticing, you dumbass!” I grit out, ready to punch his dumb face in. I can’t, of course. That’d ruin that cute button nose he has.

He flops onto his back and screams into his bandana. “Damnit, damnit! I’m trying to get to Tokyo!”

“And yet you’ve obviously failed. But, what a coincidence - so am I.” That’s where Ranma is. I need to see him and his damn nose. That nose has haunted my dreams. It’s so fucking cute. It’s the nose of a rabbit.

“...Fine. Let’s go together, then.”

What. No, noooo way.

I wasn’t going to go with this guy. It wasn’t that he wasn’t nice, or that he wasn’t cute…

I just don’t want to get lost even more than I already am. But…

“...Fine.”

He’s so cute…

“Luckily, I know the way to town from here!” He stood and marched off...towards the mountain.

\----------- 

“Tell me, rabbit - why  _ do _ you keep coming back to us? They can’t even watch.”

“...Fine! It’s a filler arc, okay?! I had to randomize my levels, but this one-!!!!” An inhuman noise of frustration left my lips.

“Yes, rabbit?”

“This one was chosen to fill space, okay?! It’s not like I consume enough media to fit this damn genre!”

“Mmm...something to work on for the future, then, I suppose. I’ve heard Raiders of the Lost Ark is a popular choice.”

\----------- 

Travelling with Ryoga was…

An  _ experience. _

“Ohhhh my god.” My voice quivered. My knees were weak. My mouth was watering.

I fell to my knees, crying.

It was…

It was…

“Ryoga. Ryoga, we found  _ Lemuria.  _ We found fucking  _ Lemuria. _ I could kiss you. I could give you a fucking  _ blowjob _ right now, holy fuck.” We had found an underground tunnel, which Ryoga had insisted was a tunnel under the british channel. Instead, it went for miles, and we found  _ this. _

A huge, sprawling cavern full of vegetation and life, water dripping from the ceiling to create a constant drizzle, crystals lighting up the entire cavern with false sunlight.

And fucking lemurs, everywhere.

“...So this  _ isn’t _ Paris…?”

I yank him down by his stupid yellow tunic and pull him into a kiss, grabbing the back of his bandana to pull him in closer and stop him from escaping as I push my tongue into his mouth. I scarcely let him breathe as I claim his tongue, his teeth, his cheeks, and the roof of his mouth with my own tongue, the boy completely stunned.

I let him go, and he stumbles to the ground.

“We found a lost fucking continent, you idiot. Now pop open those pants, get that dick out, and let me give you a fucking reward!”

\-----------

“I can’t BELIEVE you got your tentacle ooze  _ and _ your fucking eldritch cum in my hair!”

J.C. just smirks down at me, already fully clothed, their eldritch extremities retracted into themselves once more. They had flickered a lighter into existence and were now smoking away at what looked like a cigarette, though from the smell, it was something way weirder. Of course, I could easily tell from the pixels coming off of it instead of smoke as they breathe a cloud of it out. 

“Slow your roll, I’ll get it out. Truly, you humans are so vain…” They snap their fingers, and the ooze and cum vanish into pixels just like everything else they make.

“I hope you realize my eggs would have gone the same way if you would have just manned up and took the ovipositor.”

“Not a fucking man, Cthot.”

“Not convincing me with the size of that monster between your legs.”

\-----------

After blowing Ryoga away - literally and figuratively - we took a bit of a walk around Lemuria. I had managed to find an internet connection down here,  _ somehow _ , and marked it on my map of this world so I could find it later. I had a good feeling about this.

“So this is...Lemuria, y’said?”   
  
I nod, typing away. I should remember that this is mid 80s, and computers aren’t exactly super common around here. “Lemuria - the continent where lemurs originated. Some people say that the ancestors of man came from here, but it’s since been proven that man originated from Africa.”

“...Huh.” He looks around, a bit stumped. “...It’s beautiful.”

I smile...then pull him in for a fast, chaste kiss on the lips. “Yes, it’s beautiful. Thank you, Ryoga, for showing it to me.” I couldn’t help it - the blush on his face afterwards was so cute, I just started giggling and couldn’t stop.

“H-hey, Mews - MEWS! Stop laughing at me, darnit!”

\-----------

I groan, now clothed in white scrubs in the white room with the green bastard. “This is taking too long...what if I don’t get to see Ranma’s cute nose?! It’s a rabbit nose, J.C., a  _ rabbit nose! _ ”

“Just enjoy Ryoga’s time - honestly, Mews. Did you honestly take this level  _ just _ for Ranma’s nose…?”

**“YES!”**

“...That is...some dedication.” For once, J.C. was stunned.

\-----------

With just a month to spare, we  _ finally _ make it to Tokyo, and into Nerima prefecture. Fuck, just making it to Japan was an utter  _ event. _ But after finding Lemuria with Ryoga, I realized that I wasn’t enjoying the journey for what it was, and...well, I’ve always loved hiking through the woods. Even if he was an idiot, Ryoga was a good travelling partner.

“Ryoga-kun, we should find a hotel to stay at.”   
  
He huffs - looking up into the sky. It looked like it might rain, so I knew we weren’t on schedule. Ryoga appeared on a sunny day, after all. 

“But Saotome - “

“Ranma won’t be going anywhere, trust me, Ryoga-kun. Besides, we can get a room with  _ one _ bed, if that makes you feel better?” I chuckle, seeing him instantly perk up. “I’ll even top this time.” And then he stood ramrod straight, a flush climbing up his neck.

Yes, Ryoga was a fun travelling companion and bed partner, in equal measure.

“Come on - let’s go to the hotel. I’ll find a map. You don’t let go of my hand for even a  _ second, _ Ryoga, got it?” I give him a look that shows I’m serious this time, and he nods like a good boy, gripping my hand tightly.

He wasn’t who I wanted to find, but I think I enjoyed his company more than what I wanted.

\-----------

“Adorable.”

“It isn’t Ranma’s nose, though!”

\-----------

Ranma sighs, looking up at the sky. It was a decently bright day, despite what happened earlier. Ryoga had appeared, and in the ensuing fiasco, Akane’s hair was cut. She still wasn’t talking to him about it. He hated this sort of thing - the utter chaos his life was becoming. What he wanted was a damn break.

“Ah, hey - you!”

A voice - he couldn’t tell the gender of it - called up to him from the ground. He was laying on top of a partisan wall, so he shouldn’t be surprised someone called him.

Down on the ground, looking up at him, is a short person whose face was rather feminine, long purple hair kept back from their face with a black headband. The ribbons attached to it looked like rabbit ears. They have a loose tunic, grey like their eyes.

They’re big eyes, glittering even from here.

It feels like he could get lost in them if he looked too long.

“Oi, come on down, rabbit nose!”

Rabbit...nose…?

Ranma leaps from the wall, flipping once, and lands softly next to them. Wow, those eyes were even more stunning up close.

“Who the hell are you calling a rabbit, shortstack?” There was no venom behind it, not today.

The person rolls their eyes, and steps back a tad. “You, duh. And besides, can’t you tell?” They point up to their headband. “I’m a rabbit, too. Rabbits recognize rabbits!” They give him a smug look, before breaking down into a fit of giggles.

“Your face! You look so silly!”

Their is was like soft chimes, but he would never admit that he was stunned. Beautiful eyes and a beautiful laugh. Wow.

“Uh…”

“...Ah, sorry! Where are my manners. My name is Mews - I saw you up there and thought you looked interesting, with that nose of yours.” They hold out their hand - calloused and rough around the base of their index fingers and the tips of each finger, yet soft everywhere else. An archer, perhaps? Only if they used the mongolian draw.

They were still holding their hand out. “A-ah, Ranma Saotome. It’s nice to meet you.” He took it and shook it vigorously.

“Well then, Saotome-san, you look like a strapping and strong guy. Mind showing me where I can get some ice cream around here?”

...eh? “Eh?” He blinks a bit. “Ice cream? Well, I guess if you go this way - “

“No, no, show me, please. Y’see, my friend has the  _ worst _ possible direction, y’know?” They close one eye at him. “And I guess they got me with it, too. So I keep gettin’ lost. And I want to go out to ice cream with him. So, would you mind showing me the way so  _ I _ can show him the way, later?”

“Uh...sure…?”

That laugh again. “Great! I’ll pay you, of course. How does ice cream sound, Saotome-san?”

“...G-good…?”

“Then show me the way. Use that rabbit nose to sniff us out some ice cream, Saotome-san!”

...Already, he could tell that Mews was a weird person, but…

Well, just for a bit, he could use a break from the world of Martial Arts. And getting ice cream after school was what normal people did, right?

“...Alright, follow me, Ears.”

“E-ears?! Saotome-san, how could you?!”

He let out his own laugh. Yeah, they would be fun.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter actually has two versions. There's an NSFW version on Questionable Questing. If you'd like, I can also post the NSFW version in another fic, as I want to keep this at least a little SFW.


	3. Generic First Jump - Part 2: A Dyson Sphere Draws Infinite Energy from Light, Heat, and Nuclear Explosions

When Midoriya Izuku was three, his best friend, Bakugou Katsuki, developed a quirk. 

_ (Explosion. A quirk derived from Bakugou Masaru’s Oxidizing Sweat and Bakugou Mitsuki’s Glycerine quirks, allowing him to ignite the nitroglycerine in his sweat to create explosive force.) _

When Midoriya Izuku was four, during a family camping trip, he developed his own quirk. 

_ (Conduction. A quirk derived from Midoriya Hisashi’s Flamethrower and Midoriya Inko’s Attraction quirks, allowing him to attract fire to his body.) _

When Midoriya Izuku was six, his quirk put Tsubasa Hirono into the hospital. 

_ (Heat Plundering. A quirk derived from Midoriya Hisashi’s Flamethrower and Midoriya Inko’s Attraction quirks, allowing him to absorb heat from anything within his field of vision.) _

Accidents happen. In a world like this, that’s to be expected. At age four, over eighty percent of the population is given a nigh supernatural weapon intrinsic to their body and genetics. Expecting nothing to come from this just isn’t realistic.

But these accidents leave marks.

At age six, Midoriya Izuku’s quirk triggered, leaving Tsubasa Hirono in critical condition after his body temperature dropped to near lethal levels.

Though he recovered, Izuku was forever marked.

Heat Plundering: a villain’s quirk.

\-----------

“What did you do?!”

“Must I remind you of our agreed upon conditions? _ You _ were the one who chose the Drawbacks. I’m merely doing my part.” J.C. had dissolved the wheel of settings after it was spun, and now held eight remaining cubes of black, green, and white. “Archmage’s Interest: a greater being shall change the circumstances of your story to make it more _ interesting. _”

I grit my teeth and stare them down, standing up from my stool. “And that’s not supposed to be you!”

“Well, sad to say, but it is. Isn’t this fun, little rabbit? Even _ you _ get to be surprised by the wonderful worlds your piece wanders through. That’s the point of this, isn’t it?” They lick their lips. “To _ surprise _ and _ entertain _?”

“...I can’t believe you…”

“You know, I was thinking you’d be entertaining this way. But your voice is...grating. Your complaints irritate me. The sex was good, but the mouth is bothersome.” J.C. flexes their fingers, angles sharpening. The skin of their hand dissolves and pixelates, revealing pitch black. “Truly, if this is how you shall be...then the Players and Pieces shall become one.”

A pulse of black. A pulse of white. A pulse of green.

“Fine.” I stare at them directly in the eye as my being is disassembled. “I’ll be my own Piece. Don’t think you’ll be getting rid of me that easily!”

“I should have gone with my first plan to deal with you. Now - you have a story to participate in, little rabbit.” A dangerous grin carves its way onto their face. “Be careful - should you die, I think I’ll use your body as host for my eggs.”

With no time for response, their True hand crushes the cubes in their grasp, sending the world into a black spiral.

\-----------

And I awaken in a twin bed on an early morning.

_ (High Spec. A quirk occurring naturally in non sentient entities that gives them intelligence equal to, or surpassing that of a human, and allowing them to feel emotions exclusive to humans, including hatred.) _

Steel. My body is still steel, as I stand and look in the mirror. My face and hands are still smooth and colored like flesh, but everything else is cold steel. Purples and silvers and blacks and browns, lights indicating life and system operations.

_ (Do robots dream of electric sheep? If it has a quirk, is it human?) _

I test a few of my functions. Opening my hand, I shape an orb of light and energy. Reshape - a trapezoid, the vertices thick and the lines static. I close my hand and let it dissipate into the air.

Calling to the space behind my mind, I summon what I’d purchased yet never used. The Dynamos, a weapon made for hands free manipulation of the world. They float behind me like a corona, or perhaps like feathers of unseen wings. I don’t know what I’ll use them for yet, but I’d like to think I can shape them as they’ll shape things for me.

Slots in my body open up, releasing air in puffs of steam, and the eight Dynamos slip into them, before the slots seal once more. I’d get to them again later.

Still…

I gaze around the room, blinking out of habit. Clearly this body doesn’t require it.

It’s a studio apartment. Or, perhaps, it’d be more appropriate to call it a dormitory. Searching through the past of my Piece, I find that to be more than satisfactory. This is the dormitory of the engineering university, Akimitsuhara, in what was once Sendai, Japan. During the era of disaster and chaos after the advent of Quirks, the original Tohoku university had been destroyed, and replaced with what this is now. This is where this body of mine was crafted, shaped, and formed.

“Keeping backstories straight is going to be difficult, I see…”

I’m here to be educated and cared for by my inventors until the start of U.A.’s next term, at which point I will be admitted and made to be the first artificial hero. I have everything I’ll ever need here, all of the studies I need to grow brighter until I can be called a full ‘person’.

_ (Do robots dream of electric sheep? If it dreams, does it not possess a Dream? _

_ In dreams, we cannot see the faces of those who we have never met. Therefore, we cannot have Dreams of things we have never heard of. _

_ To know all of what one is capable of, one must venture into the world beyond the black box.) _

“Well, that just won’t do.” I’d always planned to see Izuku, to assuage the pain of his middle school years with the comfort of a friend. But now, with J.C.’s unexpected machinations, things would have to be accelerated.

“...There’s something I’ve always wanted to do.” I chuckle, grabbing a few things and transporting them to that space at the back of my mind. It was time to climb to the roof. But first…

I search for what would, logically, be in place upon my person. Instead of on my body, I find it within my code - a function to track me and return to them my location so that I could be easily fetched if stolen. A few moments…

And gone.

“Much better.” I smile, and leave my room, a bit of lightning striking from my finger to the lock - the alarm going off and echoing through the dormitories. Better hurry.

After I make it to the roof, I stand upon the railing of the fence, holding my arms out. The wind rushes past me. It would rain soon - I could feel it in the pressure of the air, smell it through olfactory senses formed from steel.

_ (Cold Steel. Drawn from the earth, forged in fire, cooled in water, flying through the air. It catches light and banishes darkness.) _

I could hear them coming up the steps, and throwing open the door. This was going to be amazing.

“There it is! Quickly, move quickly!” They shouted. “It’s dangerous, you’ll fall!” They cried.

“Ah, it’s useless. It’s all useless.” The words left my mouth, well practiced. I turned my head back to them. Not one of them could chase after me, I knew. “Please, send a limousine to come for me, because I’ll come back with everyone.”

I leaned forward.

“This is it, then. <Goodbye, see you again!>” 

A salute.

And I jumped.

I turned, falling head first, my back arcing away from the building as I stared towards the ground. The thrusters within my feet flared to life, launching me down before I loop through the air to fly forward between tall buildings. The slots across my body open, allowing my Dynamos to reveal themselves again. The eight orbiting machines shape themselves into a plank, held together with green lightning, a seat for me so I don’t exhaust my thrusters.

“...Ahaha, that was fantastic!” I can’t remove the grin from my face, holding long hair from my face. Feeling myself fall so fast, as if the earth was going to swallow me. Feeling myself fly through the sky. Feeling the air rush past me. This was the rush I wanted.

Screw being a Player, being a Piece was the best!

“Okay, Izuku, I’m coming for you. And I’ve read ahead.”

\-----------

Bakugou Katsuki always carried a pocket knife on his person, concealed carefully where no wandering hands could take it. He wasn’t a dangerous person - rather, he was a volatile person with a temper on a single button rather than something so time consuming as a fuse.

But the knife was never for hurting others.

It served quite the opposite purpose.

Izuku Midoriya had a quirk for villains. That’s what they said. That he could steal your soul and life away with a glance. Leave you a cold and shivering shell of your former self.

That’s what happened to one Tsubasa Hirono eight years ago, after all. The poor boy never quite recovered, they said. His warmth long stolen. His light long blown out, swallowed by a boy who never deserved it. That’s what they said.

Katsuki figured he knew better. They never held Izuku close as he desperately tried to give it back. Desperately tried to put out the flames burning in his hair, in his blood. From head to toe, he was ablaze. But it wasn’t visible.

So no one cared.

And soon, neither did Izuku.

But Katsuki would happily be ‘no one’ if it meant he never had to see his friend crying and screaming again. He’d learned, he’d watched.

As Izuku absorbed heat, his hair would turn red from the roots to the tips, until it was brilliant _ (burning) _ red instead of lush green. At that point, he could hold no more without permanently damaging himself. Heat was used to heal his wounds, seal cuts and assuage bruises. Mend bones and replace broken teeth.

_ (Heartbreak. A wound that cannot be sealed or mended with raging fire, but only with gentle warmth and caring touches and ‘I love you’. But they weren’t ready for that.) _

That is why he carried his knife with him everywhere they went. If worse came to worst, and Izuku began to burn until his blood boiled and his skin melted, that’s when he would draw it.

To stop the hurt, he’d cut and cut and cut away the burnt, festering, boiling black burns _ (darkness) _ clouding his friend’s skin _ (heart). _

_ (Heartbreak. A wound that cannot be sealed or mended with raging fire, but only with gentle warmth and caring touches and ‘I love you’. But ‘I love you’ is more than words. It is hand and hand. Shoulder to shoulder. Hugs and kisses to the forehead and a brush working through knots. They aren’t ready to say ‘I love you’, but they know in the way that one always knows the truth.) _

And then, ‘nobody’ was no longer Bakugou Katsuki. ‘Nobody’ was Bakugou Katsuki and ‘Sonogami Nagisa’.

\-----------

Midoriya Izuku has worn gloves every day for the last eight years. Thick and black, it takes effort to draw heat through them. He’d never make that same mistake.

_ (But was it a mistake? That’s what they say. Jealous of Hirono, too close to Katsuki. A jealous child turned to rage and homicide. You can always tell if someone is good or bad by their quirks, it’s simple logic. No hero would need a quirk that could steal the lives of others away in the blink of an eye. _

_ “I’ve always known that boy was no good, since I laid eyes upon him. That poor mother of his, forced to deal with a future villain. No wonder his father left them.” As if they can tell the future, as if they can see into the hearts of others and scrape out the insides till there’s nothing but writing on the walls of the still beating shell. _

_ On his worst days, Izuku agreed with them.) _

He always wore long clothing. Large patches of skin were heavily discolored from that incident - the body wasn’t meant to become that hot, to hold the heat of two people within one body. He hated it - hated the reminders of his failures.

But even with gloved hands, Kacchan always took his hand and held it tight. Besides his mother, Izuku couldn’t remember the last person to care about him and his problems.

Certainly his father never did.

The two were sat next to each other in class, just as always. 

The teacher called them to attention, however.

“Today, we’ll be having a transfer student, all the way from Miyagi prefecture. Please, treat them well.” Eyes drifted to Izuku, and he flinched away. “You can come in now.”

And one Sonogami Nagisa entered.

They had a strange air to them. Smiling, yes, cordial, yes. But there was something cold to them. Strange in the way they moved. They wore the boy’s uniform, but the gakuran had been taken off and wrapped around their waist - surely non standard, or at least dodging the rules. The white shirt underneath was distorted, as if hinting at a chest - but they didn’t seem truly feminine, sans the long hair and slight build. Everything from their neck down to their wrists was covered in a black undershirt.

_ “Hiding something.” _ Was his first thought. It was the same thing he’d done, for some time.

They wrote their name on the chalkboard, then introduced themselves. “Good morning. My name is Sonogami Nagisa, but call me Mews. Please take care of me.”

Everyone began to murmur. What was their quirk, what was their quirk?

“Ah, apologies.” They smile, looking around the classroom with striking grey eyes behind equally striking red glasses _ \- non prescription, fashion or a disguise? _ “My quirk is called ‘High Spec’ - I have increased intelligence. It’s nothing special, I assure you.”

_ (And wasn’t that strange? The only recorded instances of High Spec were in things inhuman - things that could feasibly be said to have non-human intelligence. Otherwise, such a thing couldn’t be measured.) _

They sat at their assigned seat - one at the front, near the door, that had been empty for some time - their class uneven, with no Tsubasa Hirono to fill it.

Mews looked over at him - him, Izuku, really? - with a smile, and a wave.

W-well, it would be rude not to have lunch with a new student, right?

\-----------

Spending time with Katsuki and Izuku was strange. Nice, but strange. I was still a bit unsure of myself, settling into this life of ‘Sonogami Nagisa’, when before, I lacked any sort of designation in this life.

Using funds from my Warehouse space, I managed to fake an identity as an orphan from the Miyagi prefecture, and find myself a place to live. I had saved quite a bit of stock from time spent travelling with Ryoga, after all, giving me a decent sum over forty three million yen, roughly equivalent to four hundred thousand USD. And, to make things even easier, I had my own supply of fuel spawning from there as well.

It was a relatively smooth transition. But I know I’d be in for a world of trouble if Akimitsuhara ever found me, so I hope it doesn’t come to that.

Izuku was quiet. Somewhere between shy and fearful of his own voice, in a way I wish I couldn’t understand.

_ (Hurt. A universal emotion ascribed to those who have been wronged time and time again until their tongues are inured to the taste.) _

Katsuki was restrained, but ever willing to rush to the aid of his best friend. I wondered, then, what drove him to act the way he did under normal circumstances.

_ (Fear. A universal emotion ascribed to those who know they can’t. Can’t live. Can’t save. Can’t hold.) _

“Hey, Izuku, why don’t we all go to town today?” I speak up, drinking my El-aid from a juice box. “I heard there’s a sale on comics today, and we can all catch the newest Hawks movie.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, taking a bite of the fried chicken his mother had packed for him. “You’ve really got a thing for mister Number Three, huh, knuthead?”

“He has a really good performance, and his record is nearly spotless, especially when compared to Endeavor, the Number Two spot, Kacchan.” Our greenette murmurs softly.

“And he’s hot.”

I can’t hold in my laugh as Katsuki starts choking on his food, and then I double over as Izuku flushes red and breathes in his own drink. It’s hard to act my age when I’m in a body this young. It’s almost nice, to live middle school again, without the pressure and constant negative cloud from other people around me.

_ (Almost. Because the cloud looms over Izuku, and somehow that’s worse. To have someone you love, haunted and _ ** _hunted _ ** _ by the very world you live in. Every stepped judged, and found lacking.) _

It takes a bit for us all to calm down - for Izuku to breathe again and Katsuki to knock me to the dirt and myself to quit celebrating their suffering.

“_ Fine, _we can indulge your fetish for fucking birds, knuthead!” The blonde huffs, foot still driving into the back of my head. He knew it wouldn’t hurt me, of course. I had revealed my nature as a robot to them rather early on - rather, Izuku had guessed.

“You say that, but _ which _ one of us was choking on a bird’s bone?” My response was muffled by dirt, and I could only look with one eye as the other was pressed to the ground, but I got to see that luminous blush and pure fury overtake him again.

And then Izuku started to giggle, that sound like bells, and my heart wept at how I could count the times I’d heard it on one hand.

\-----------

“...Fine, I guess it wasn’t awful.” Katsuki bit out, drinking from his soda. He had never been a fan of the Number Three. Why would he? Only the best was good enough, would _ ever _ be good enough. If you weren’t the best at what you did, why even try?

_ (Inertia. The failure to change, or the resistance towards change. An explosion can only occur upon being lit, and otherwise will remain unlit and inert. The touch of a handler makes all the difference, and a flame can be smothered before it sparks. _

_ And a spark is weak, weak, weak, and Katsuki’s dreams were smothered with ‘only the best matter’ before they could even begin to light, so what does that make him?) _

Izuku hummed, voice warm even as his lips were wrapped around the straw of a vanilla milkshake, seeming to wallow in cold and ice, the feeling of fire under his skin pressed down beneath layers of frost.

Nagisa - no, Mews, but where did that nickname even come from - smiles and pats his back. “Told you, Katsuki. The actor playing Hawks did a good job, but he doesn’t have the right look. Wings were totally fake, couldn’t even find someone with a similar quirk.”

“Wings like Hawks’ are actually super uncommon as a quirk. Because his wings are mostly feathers, rather than being as much bone and muscle.” Izuku murmured, low and soft and quiet, and where was his best friend who was loud, who wanted to be the greatest _ together? _ “And even then, the size is surely a limiting factor - rarely will wings be much larger than a foot without causing other changes to the body. Plus, red feathers are even less common - so recoloring them would need CGI anyway.”

“Ugh, gross.” CGI was tacky. The sky was literally the limit when it came to quirks, and still people relied on that kind of crap?

_ (And wasn’t that funny? That with the advent of quirks, so much changed but so much stayed the same. The anarchic upheaval of society reduced so much of their past to dust, and the advent of heroes drew our eyes to earth. _

_ We could have been among the stars. Living on the moon, colonizing Mars. That was the power, the potential of Quirks. _

_ But gods were among men, now, and no longer did they look to heaven.) _

The trio were walking through downtown Musutafu, away from the train station. They’d gone to Shinjuku for the movie, and did a bit of shopping, before returning back.

It was one of those moments that made Katsuki reflect on how strange their new friend was. The purple haired robot was fascinated by the strangest things - though that made sense, locked away within a university campus for much of their life.

But things like vending machines? Even the slightly more uncommon ones, the kind that served hot noodles and pizza and coffee, were nothing new for Izuku and himself. And yet every time they saw one, they’d light up with joy and a smile that almost made Katsuki wish he had sunglasses.

Even now, they were happily slurping away at ramen in a can that they’d bought a block before - salt and pork belly, Katsuki thought. Just happy to be alive.

Just happy to be with them.

_ (Ground zero. The origin of detonation, the source of destruction, where all things are changed by heat and light in a single moment.) _

There’s a wet sound against the pavement, from the sewer, and Katsuki stops, looking down.

An eye stares back.

In a moment, he’s swallowed.

\-----------

“KATSUKI!”

“Kacchan…!”

Izuku dropped his drink, covering his mouth in horror. He took a step back, and then another - even as Mews stepped forward, electricity and lightning shaping together into vertices and angles in their hand, ready to strike.

His own hand reached out and took theirs back, ignoring the lightning that lances out, arcing off of his friend in their fear and anger. “Mews, no...Y-you can’t!”

“Why not?!” They look back to him, grey eyes watering in a way that made Izuku doubt their existence as a machine more and more every moment. But their eyes were wide, their lips trembling, their entire body trembling as if the earth was shaking beneath them. “Izuku, I can’t...we can’t just…”

“I know - but,” And gods, there were so many things he could say here, so many words trying to run past his lips at once that they remain sealed shut. An overflow, from two hundred and fifty five to zero, rendering him to zero.

They weren’t allowed to use Quirks in public, they’d get arrested, even trying to save Kacchan.

_ (False. Mews’ lightning is part of their being, not their Quirk. Where is the line between human and machine, birthright and quirk?) _

A hero would come to save him. They had too, there were too many in Musutafu not to.

_ (False. Izuku knew every hero on patrol in this city, and none would be able to save Kacchan. Focus on power and might and the show, the facade, the persona. The stage. But there are no heels with skill and subterfuge to match the sea of faces.) _

One pushes past the others. This is the most important, this has to be.

“You’ll kill him.”

Mews freezes, fear and shock and _ horror _lancing through them like the lightning they wield, pulling back into their being. “It’s liquid. It’d...it’s instantly fry him inside out…”

_ (Truth. Even Mews couldn’t save Kacchan, because though they were strong, they were unpracticed. A hammer cannot fix a screw.) _

A crowd was gathering, murmurs of fear and rage, people crying out for someone to do something. The police gathering them back, pushing them away from Kacchan, even as he screamed silently, tears running down his face as his body was forced apart under sewage and muck and ooze.

The heroes were gathering. But Mount Lady could not touch him without destroying him. Kamui Woods could do naught but spear Kacchan straight through.

This is hell.

_ (Truth. To go from two to one is to rip away a limb. Kacchan had been with him as long as they could remember, before he was a blight upon the world, before he was the curse, the greedy pit that swallowed light and left naught but cold. _

_ Hell was cold. Hell was frozen. _

_ Izuku’s skin was cold. Izuku’s blood was frozen.) _

  
  
  
  


_ (Fuck that.) _

Izuku bit the finger of his leather glove, pulling it off, letting the air touch his skin. He pushed Mews aside, their eyes staring at him - he couldn’t decipher that. He couldn’t care to.

Through the sea of shoulders and faces and _ people who were not Kacchan, who didn’t matter _, Izuku met Kacchan’s eyes and gave him a smile through the tears. He gripped his own hand, and drew.

_ Plundered. _

To anyone else’s eyes, they’d see nothing, feel nothing but a hot breeze. But Izuku saw more, always saw more, felt more. He ignored the feeling, the fear, the lingering self hatred - _ another Hirono _ \- pushing it down, down beneath determination and anger and _ h e a t. _

Green turned to red, roots of green-black fading and burning away to crimson. He drew and he drew and he Plundered, until his being began to ache.

Until his hair was brilliant scarlet, until it began to bleed into his eyes, because Kacchan was still not free. Water held heat better than most things, even as he drew it away. But he could see it, the ribbons of red heat fading from the villain who was holding his best friend away from him, trying to take him away.

And Kacchan fell. And the villain was nothing but sewage and muck and ooze, flat against the ground.

Izuku stopped. But the heat didn’t.

It wouldn’t.

He breathed - he tried to.

Smoke came from his lips.

He couldn’t breathe.

Something was burning.

Burning away.

He looked down at himself, at the distance between himself and all around him - an officer was holding Mews, why? Why, why, why?

He held up his hands. His skin was melting. _ He was melting away. _

The pavement was bubbling and oozing around him, barely holding together, his clothes starting to smoke and burn away. Tears in his eyes turning to steam, his throat dry and clenched tight. He was going to suffocate.

But it didn’t matter. He had saved Kacchan. So he’d burn away. He’d fly into the sun, if that meant Kacchan would live.

_ (Truth. But the worst sort of truth.) _

_ (Heartbreak. A wound that can only be fixed by gentle heat and caring touches and ‘I love you’. But there would be no one to say ‘I love you’ anymore.) _

\-----------

“No, no, no…!”

Izuku, Katsuki…! I couldn’t lose them both because I made a stupid mistake. I hadn’t followed the time, I hadn’t realized. I thought All Might would handle this, but he’d never have reason to find the Slime Villain, would he?

I’d made a mistake. I’d lose them, after getting to know them and be with them.

“I can’t...let me GO!” I wrenched myself free from the touch of the police officer holding me tight, even as everyone looked on in horror at Izuku’s self immolation.

“IZUKU!” I tried to call through my tears, but gods, why wouldn’t he answer?!

_ (The human body is sensitive to changes in temperature. It’s not meant to handle the weight of two lives upon itself.) _

I didn’t run towards him. I couldn’t risk myself melting so close to him. I didn’t have the tools to handle this myself. I didn’t know how. I couldn’t take his heat into myself, I couldn’t expel it. I couldn’t hurt him.

That was the one way to get through his heat, to expel it - to harm Izuku, to draw blood and seal it away, but I didn’t have the lances, the blades, the might of Eve, of Code: Exotic. I was just me, playing with lightning and thunder and shapes and arcs.

_ (Code: Electra. The sacrifice of one’s emotions, and those close to them, to become a radiant angel of death. _

_ The sacrifice would be made here and now, whether you want it or not.) _

Tears came from my eyes, turning to steam from the heat - from the heat of Izuku.

And Katsuki would never see him go.

...Katsuki…!

_ (But the sacrifice could be prevented. To fear is to know you can’t. To hope is to pierce past ‘can’t’, to tame it into a blade sharper than razors and cold steel, to cut through the mist of doubt and rush off into the distance.) _

I pushed past the people around me, thrusters rushing me forward, faster, faster, faster! 

Reaching Katsuki’s body - thank gods, he’s still breathing - I look through his clothes and find his knife. Cold steel meets cold steel. I turn back to Izuku, his head thrown back in a silent, skyward scream as he falls to his knees.

Leaping to my feet, I leap higher into the air...and down.

Blood gushes under me.

It burns.

It burns, it burns, it _ burns. _

I was straddling Izuku’s body, pressing it to the ground, my hand upon his chest. The one holding the knife had plunged it through his stomach, deep into his organs as far as it would go. His scream had stopped, and he looked sightlessly at me.

Was this betrayal?

No, it was anything but, even as I cut across his stomach, letting blood gush free and cover my pants and my shirt and my metal skin. I pull the blade free, and hack further at his arms, even as I see the wound in his stomach seal, hear the tell-tale hiss of steam and bubbling blood, heat becoming life.

Each scratch seals as quickly as it is inflicted, and even when they don’t, I go and I go - until my hand is stopped, and Izuku is there. Izuku is there and he’s breathing and he’s not dying and screaming.

And maybe I’m crying, and I’m screaming.

I can barely breathe.

He’s alive.

I press my lips to his, tears meeting tears and skin meeting metal.

_ (Thank you, for not taking him away. _

_ For not making this into a wicked tragedy.) _

\-----------

The ambulance comes. Their parents come. The police follow.

Katsuki wishes it was just the ambulance, wishes Mews was there with them. But he knew they couldn’t, not without raising questions. They’d already dodged the police, just barely avoiding it. They wouldn’t return to Miyagi, they said. Not to Akimitsuhara. Not without them.

Them and a limousine. Whatever that meant.

He and Izuku have a shared room, Izuku crying in fear at being alone. That was alright. They’d be alright.

His mother screams something in his ear. He doesn’t pay attention, because she isn’t important. She isn’t Izuku, and she isn’t Mews. Words that smothered his fire _ (dreams) _ and cut him like knives couldn’t touch him. Because she didn’t matter. She doesn’t matter, not when the people who are the best for him exist.

_ (I hate you. That’s the words he wants to speak most, but cannot, because he doesn’t even know if it’s true, but gods above does he want them to be. He wants her to hurt in the same way he’s hurt, in the same way she’s hurt him and Izuku.) _

Izuku’s here for his cuts and any internal damage that his quirk didn’t catch, as well as to let his burns recover more smoothly. Katsuki himself is here because he _ drowned _ in that sewage, and his lungs needed time to recover.

The woman leaves, and his Auntie Inko follows with a shy smile back to them both, and Mews enters and sits on his bed, shining and happy to just know they’re both alive.

“Gods, I was so scared…” They said, grabbing his hand, staring at Izuku on his, the boy giving them both a weak smile. “...I want to tell you something. This is...it’s important. You won’t even notice a thing, but, for me, it’ll be a long, _ long _ time.”

And they speak, and the words come like a fountain.

Of a great multiverse, and Mews’ role in it - that of a Jumper, moving from world to world and becoming stronger, changing things for better or worse, all for the entertainment of a rotten, omnipotent bastard.

Of how they started this because they were selfish and wanted people to love, but they didn’t realize what it would mean to fall in love.

And that’s okay, Katsuki thinks, looking at Izuku. They both smile at Mews and they break a bit, crying.

“Damn, knuthead, calm down.”

“R-really, Mews, you’re fine.”

“If it takes you a couple hundred years to get back to us, though, you’d better bring sweet ass gifts. I ain’t gonna accept a shiny rock or anything, you hear me?!”

\-----------

Gods.

I do love them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This, so far, was my favourite chapter to write.
> 
> I teared up while writing it, actually.


	4. Generic First Jump - Part 3: Even if the world is full of ice and snow, at least I have you.

Tsunayoshi is eleven years old, and every day is cold. Clawing cold that comes from the inside out, even as the sun shines down on a bright, sunny day. Even if he wears the softest sweaters and layers of clothing, it’s all the same. Ice in his veins, snow clouding his mind, the cold ever dragging him down, down, down.

The bone deep chill is pervasive, crawling its way to every corner of his body, under his skin, until he feels like he’s a living ice age. A thick blanket of white covers his perceptions of the world around him, and everything is so muffled and silent that he can almost hear his thoughts echo within the confines of his head.

So, so long ago, there was light and heat, and warmth. A radiant star in the blackness of space, a guiding light that could take him cross the sea and the vast mountains, swamps, forests, rivers, and deserts that cover this earth. But now the cold swallows everything, until even a glacier would be warmer than his own skin.

Sometimes, he can feel the warmth of others, and it soothes the yawning expanse of cold, but it’s never enough. But the worst part, is that he can feel that same coldness seeped into his mother’s soul, in how there’s not even a flicker of warmth to her skin, to her eyes, as she stares at him and doesn’t  _ see _ him. How she wanders through each day, not caring, not noticing.

She mirrors the names they call him, and it hurts, like frostbite in his heart.

It’s impossible to care.

Zero after zero, red marks that barely make sense to his addled mind. The words swim on the page, crawling like ants, and the marks on the board mix and flow in a haze of gray and white that he can’t pierce. Everyone’s words are like a constant veil of noise, and he can only pick up the sharpest and cruellest of their words.

It’s impossible to care.

That’s what he tries to say.

But it hurts, and the veil thickens every day, until it’s as if the world around him is nothing but static.

Then a pair of red glasses are slid over his nose, and - at least one of the hazes lifts, as he can see the world around him for the first time.

“Aha, there we go! You look  _ really _ cute with those on, Tsunayoshi.” A voice he vaguely recognizes pierces the haze. Sluggishly, he remembers.

Yoinara Nagi, a waifish girl, had transferred to Namimori from Midori due to difficulties with the other students. She preferred to be called ‘they’, most often, which was confusing - but he’d rather be confused and kind than ignore the wishes of someone who doesn’t call him ‘Dame-Tsuna’. That alone brings his opinion of Nagi and their strangeness much higher. 

He tries to gather himself together. It’s hard - everything is hard for him now. But he manages, and even more importantly, he manages not to shriek. “Um...What…?” 

They brush back a lock of straight purple hair, and don’t take the glasses back. He’s almost glad for it. “I noticed that Tsunayoshi was always squinting at the board, so I wondered if maybe my glasses would work for you. My...mother...got me contacts, recently, you see. I don’t know your prescription, but -” They start to ramble - language devolving into embarrassed squawking, almost. And he hadn’t even said anything to fluster them.

Glasses…

He adjusts them. They aren’t perfect, at all, but - the haze is lifted, just a bit, and he can almost focus on what’s on his paper. And he can see their face clearly for the first time. Soft and almost doll like - they’re a year younger than him, but enrolled early, and it shows in the soft curves of their face and their limbs, even as thin and waif like as they are. 

Sometimes, Tsuna can feel the warmth from their touch, lancing through his body like static. It reminds him of when he accidentally touched the metal of a plug as he unplugged the socket - it shocked and scared him, but didn’t damage him. But this static - this lightning, really - is  _ warm. _ So warm and so welcome.

“...Thank you...Th-they help a lot, Nagi-chan.”

They smile at him. “Call me Mews, please - I like it better.”

* * *

“You mean your father is an actor?” The surprise is enough to cut through the haze of powder snow clouding his thoughts and vision. It had been a handful of weeks since they had met, and since then, Tsuna had been pulled into a whirlwind that was a match for the blizzard raging in his veins. The glasses Nagi-chan - no, Mews, rather - had lent him now had proper lenses that helped his vision and focus, and the purple haired child was now a constant at his side at lunch.

Despite a thin, almost ghostlike appearance, they were more than able to stare down bullies with a cutting tongue and a fierce glare that sent electric heat rushing through Tsuna’s arms, static making his hair stand on end and his heart warm in the glacier that encases his chest.

They nod in response, picking at their lunch. It looks expertly made - a perfect rolled omelette, salmon stuffed rice balls shaped into smiling rabbits, and fried chicken that’s so crisp that he could hear the crunch from across the roof for those first few, awkward days. But they barely eat any of it, ever, saying eating too much makes them sick.

He can kind of understand - his stomach churns from the idea of eating a full meal, after years of having only the scraps the other, larger children would leave after they had picked his box clean.

“Yeah, and my mother is the manager of the japanese branch of a big foreign fashion company. Father’s never home, but mother is, and...she’s difficult, at the best of times.” There was a mountain of implications in those words, in the way they stuttered and failed to meet his eyes. But that was fine. His own family situation was a mountain he’d never want to climb - would hate to be buried under the avalanche that would fall if he began.

So he doesn’t push, and he doesn’t yell, and the snow rests on the mountain for another day. For forever, if either of them have anything to do with it.

“Ah, sometimes my own is the same.” Tsuna looks down at his food. It’s good, but it’s too much. Overflowing with rice and greens. But it’s good, and it’s warm, and his favourite. Hamburger steak has always warmed his veins, even if his mother is made of the same ice that chills him to his toes. “Mom - sometimes, she’s not all there. It’s like she stares through me and doesn’t see me. I think she misses dad, a lot. She says he’s drilling for oil, but I think he’s dead, personally. If he was drilling for oil, or whatever, he’d call.”

They both sigh, together. And the world feels a little less cold, and a little less lonely - knowing someone else shares your pain.

* * *

The first time Tsuna brings his first and only friend home after school, the atmosphere is frigid. He can tell it isn’t one of his mother’s good days before he even walks through the door - can hear his heartbeat in his ears like a roaring drum, can feel his anxiety condense in his breath, dense enough to almost be a visible haze. The aching chill in his bones, and the consuming blizzard of his home make him want to run.

It makes him want to enfold his friend in his arms and never let them go. To selfishly hold that heat they bring to his skin. He doesn’t want to freeze to death - and, perhaps even more than that, he doesn’t want the spark flickering in his friend’s heart to be snuffed out like embers in the winter winds. Doesn’t want to pull them down, down to his freezing cold earth, down from where they dance among the clouds in emerald static.

Yet he doesn’t.

His mother breezes by them, brisk and bracing and so cold it burns even his icy skin. Her eyes are a warm brown that mirrors his own, and truly, from the pictures he’s seen, he takes far more from his mother than he ever took from his father. But past the warmth is empty ice, reflecting the world back into a twisted hall of mirrors. As if everything that ruins the illusion of harmony is twisted, pressed into holes they have no business being near, until it clicks in a way that won’t hurt.

She sees Tsuna, and she sees Mews, and she stares  _ through _ them without  _ seeing _ . “Oh, Dame Tsu-kun brought home a friend! I was afraid the day would never come that he’d have one, really. So sweet of you to have mercy on my worthless son.” She smiles even as the blizzard in his chest grows ever louder and ever colder.

But Mews stands their ground. “Tsuna’s my friend, it’s no mercy, trust me. He’s wonderful company, truly. We were going to work on our homework for the weekend, so we’ll be heading up stairs, if it’s no trouble.”

“Oh, don’t be like that! I don’t even know the name of the beautiful little lady my son brought home. Oh, but I don’t think you’d enjoy a relationship with him - perhaps you should try someone else?” The sound of his heart in his ears pounds ever louder. 

“I believe you’re mistaken - I’m not a girl, Sawada-san. And, please don’t imply that I am again. Come on, Tsuna, let’s go.” They grab his wrist, and the normally comforting heat they bring to his soul retreats away from their skin. His heart sinks. “We’ll be working rather hard, so please don’t bother us, Sawada-san. I’ll be gone before you know it.”

But she  _ keeps speaking. _ The storm keeps raging, snow keeps falling. “Such a dedicated girl. At least let me make you two some snacks - I’m sure keeping Tsuna’s attention is rather exhausting. He’s not all that bright, really, and he can be a bit of a loser sometimes - so make sure to stick with him, please! I’m sure he must have some good points, to impress a pretty girl like you.”

And, yet - she keeps speaking. She doesn’t hear their responses, doesn’t see them move and walk away, as Mews grips his hand, shoulders tensed, teeth clenched. His entire existence may be a cruel ice age - but his mother is locked in a blizzard so thick one can barely see their own nose.

Though he can, almost, understand - he can’t forgive. Not as he holds his friend close. They don’t cry, but they hold him close. It’s the most anyone’s held him in years.

He can understand, but he won’t forgive. Not for a long, long time.

* * *

It’s a night, when they’ve stayed out far past their curfew, laying in the just barely overgrown grass at the park. It’s that night, when they’ve their hands entwined, next to each other, eyes up at the endlessly deep expanse of the sea of stars above them, the stars glittering and swimming like fish through the gods’ river.

That’s the night when Tsuna realizes, as Mews’ touch chases away the cold in his veins, that the endless sheet of ice feels so thin. Feels so thin that it could shatter, feels so thin that he could just barely get a taste of brilliant orange fire upon his lips.

That taste of cinnamon and love and  _ home _ \- like a distant memory. A lost piece of his heart.

At times, he can truly  _ see _ the green that crackles and dances across Mews’ skin - flickering lightning with the heat of a roaring fire. It makes him swallow - it makes him feel safe. But it makes him want, like a dragon wants every bit of treasure for its horde. He wants Mews - not out of desire, but out of possessiveness. Out of refusal for anyone to take them away.

It scares him - this feeling of want, of possessive need. This need, to be complete. To fill the holes he knows are missing in his heart, his mind, his soul.

He tightens his grip on Mews’ hand, and they respond in kind.

“You alright, Tsuna?” They speak, voice soft enough that if a breeze were to wander through, it would be carried miles and miles away, to someone who didn’t care for the treasure he had found.

He presses down the growl that wants to surge from his chest at the thought. “...Yeah, I’m fine.”  _ Now _ , goes unspoken. “...We should go home.”

Except home is not his house or the Yoinara’s penthouse. It is not in the arms of his mother who is lost in the snow, it is not in the silence of a home with no people. Their home is here, in the grass, hand in hand, together.

And yet - and yet, that’s what  _ passes _ for a home, for children who’ve nowhere to go, no power to themselves. So they stand. Tsuna’s house is just a handful of streets a way, so they begin to walk, following the street lights.

It’s as they reach the first of the remaining streets that Tsuna’s chest begins to tighten. As they cross, his heart beats faster, louder, louder,  _ louder. _

_ ‘Don’t.’ _

They walked across to the other side, safely, and followed the sidewalk around the block to the remaining street. His head feels like it’s in a vice.

_ ‘Don’t cross.’ _

The street lights here were out - had been for a few weeks, due to construction the previous week. But he’d crossed this street hundreds of times - his house just down the way.

_ ‘Don’t let our lightning cross.’ _

Lightning. Lightning.  _ Lightning. _ His hand drops from Mews’, as the word lances through his soul. Yes, yes, they were his lightning - !

_ ‘Don’t! Don’t! Don’t!’ _

Mews - his lightning, his lightning - realized, as they stepped into the street, that Tsuna wasn’t holding their hand. “Tsuna? You alright? Come on!” They turned to see him. They stopped in the street.

_ ‘Run! Run! Run, run, run, run - !’ _

It happened in a second. A second where Tsuna  _ ran,  _ feeling as if his body was burning. But it was too late.

It happened in a second. Their smiling face, the smiling face of his lightning, was gone.

A sickening crunch filled the silent night air, the burning of rubber filling his nose, terror and  _ grief _ filling his head and his heart and his being as he ran.

“Shit, shit - !” The driver was out of their car, but it didn’t matter, as he ran for his friend, cradling their body in his arms. Gods, they were bleeding - they were bleeding and the blood was on the ground, on the car, on their body, on his hands. Distantly, he could hear the driver calling an ambulance.

Distantly, he heard them slam the door and drive away.

_ ‘Hit and run.’ _

His eyes hurt. No...this couldn’t… He took his glasses off, set them to the side, cradling his friend close - so fragile, now, like a doll filled with cracks.

“Tsuna - ‘m sorry…”

He shook his head. “No, no! It’s fine, it’s fine! Just - stay with me, please! Just a bit longer!” Heat bubbled in his stomach. It hurt. It hurt, it hurt. He gripped their body - so thin and so pale. “You just need to stay awake, okay? Remember? Teacher said if you fell asleep with this -”

He could feel their body growing limp in his arms. “Haha...Tsuna, it’s fine. I’ll...be fine. You know…” They slurred softly. “Thank you. For being my friend.”

“No - no, I should thank you! So just, hold on -!” It roared, the heat bubbled and surged, against the ice in his veins. The cold redoubles, trying to swallow the heat, trying to wash away his lightning. He could feel that bond, now - that missing piece to his heart. 

“Hey, Tsuna? Don’t cry. Don’t cry, I’ll be fine…” Even as they said that, their head lolled against his shoulder.

No, no, no -!

_ ‘No, no, no!’ _

The ice cracked. Within his soul, he pounded and pounded, waited for the ice to shatter, to release that vibrant heat. If he could just pull a little more -!

But it didn’t come. The ice thickened and thickened, his lightning’s brilliant emerald vanishing under a veil of white. He could feel it swallowing him again, that cruel white apathy muffling his vision, his senses again, even as he held them tight.

“I can’t - Mews, I can’t lose - !” His voice broke into a choked sob. “Please…”

_ “Please.” _

The world felt so painfully heavy. He could feel himself losing to the white. Losing to the cold, to the snow, to the ice. Desperation was buried under cloyingly soothing  _ nothingness _ .

But there - there, he could feel it. A speckle of red. Not orange, but deep, burning red. Bubbling, bubbling red. Roiling red. Boiling red. And he reached.

And the earth answered.  _ Earth _ answered.

Air was displaced with a thick crack. The ground cratered, opened by sheer force. By gravity itself doubling around them - around him. The street lights and mailboxes began to twist and bend, cars displacing themselves as they were dragged towards the birth of a new star.

A flickering - no, rolling - red flame was upon his forehead, as his eyes shifted to red. He could hold them here. Just a bit longer - attracting Mews to stay together, to stay with him. And then the lights of the ambulance entered his vision, and the star collapsed.

Tsuna slumped down into oblivion, as the paramedics approached, voices muffled and so, so far away…

* * *

Tsuna awoke in the hospital. Mews did not.

The previous night, Yoinara Sachiko, Mews’ mother, was called. Sawada Nana was, as well, but did not pick up.

Yoinara Nagi, Mews, was removed from life support and left to die softly in the night.

Tsuna stared blankly at the doctor, and left as soon as he was discharged.

He walked home.

His mother never noticed he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, this was a pretty heavy chapter to right, but I'm really happy with it.
> 
> For those who are concerned about our protagonist - if you die in GFJ, you instead move onto the next level. So they're fine!
> 
> Though, canonically, Nagi...Well, that's something else, I suppose.
> 
> Our next chapter will be much, much lighter.
> 
> Oh, by the way - parts of this chapter were inspired by Night-Mare's works. They do amazing KHR content!

**Author's Note:**

> I like to chat in the comments. If there's any questions you have, please let me know.
> 
> Generic First Jump Doc: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1vACRnVTUIEIiupHszuJU2jOMs0cAPdjg/view?usp=sharing
> 
> =Generic First Jump Build=
> 
> 1000  
+100 (Randomized)  
+100 (SoL; Homeless)  
+100 (SoL; Odd Jobs)  
+100 (Sur; Resource Shortage)  
+100 (Sur; Horrific Weather)  
+150 (Kept; Massive Collateral)  
+150 (Kept; Modern Sensibilities)  
+150 (Kept; Archmage's Interest)  
+100 (Sci; Three Sea Shells)
> 
> \- 0 (The Creator)  
\----
> 
> 2050
> 
> \- 0 (Body Like A Jumper)  
\- 0 (Mind Like A Jumper)  
\- 50 (Sexy and I Know It)  
\- 50 (Life Skills)  
-100 (Non-Human Race; Nasod {Fan})
> 
> \----
> 
> 1850
> 
> -200 (Seeing The Sights, All The Sights)
> 
> \----
> 
> 1650
> 
> -100 (Collector's Eye)  
-400 (Harmony)
> 
> \----
> 
> 1150
> 
> \- 0 (Inspiration)  
-100 (Form)  
-200 (Function)
> 
> \----
> 
> 850
> 
> -100 (Friendly Friends)  
-100 (Be Not Afraid)  
-100 (The Quick and the Dead)  
-100 (Secondary Superpowers)  
-100 (Engineer)
> 
> \----
> 
> 350  
+200 (Item Stipend)
> 
> \----
> 
> 550
> 
> -100 (Bare Necessities; $200k/year trust fund ver.)  
\- 50 (Favorite Treats)  
-50 (Wardrobe)  
-150 (Laptop; Upgrading ver.)  
-100 (Souvenir; Set of Dynamos {Fan})  
-100 (Stamp of Fiat Approval; plans to get a RDM Soulstone)  
\- 0 (Workshop)


End file.
